A Killing Season

by Jessica Speart

  One contained the anticoagulant heparin, while the other was a muscle relaxant labeled Robaxin. The last bottle held liquid Valium, a popular tranquilizer. I now knew why Elizabeth Come-By-Night had been staggering out in the field. Hutchins must have injected her with a powerful cocktail in place of the flu shot she was supposed to receive. The girl had apparently managed to slip away before any further damage was done.

  There could no longer be any doubt that the FBI was barking up the wrong tree. It wasn’t a deadly virus that was being created, or any sort of anthrax vaccine to be sold to survivalists. The doctor had clearly made the leap from Medicare scams to the body parts Mafia.

  A small refrigerator sat against the wall and I wouldn’t have thought much of it but for the padlock attached to keep out nosy intruders. That was the equivalent of waving a red flag in my face. My needle-nosed clamp neatly did the trick, and I flung open the door.

  Sitting on the shelf was a small cooler exactly like the one Robert Zarem had carried at Nearly Paradise. Reaching in, I pulled it toward me. Half my brain expected it to contain bear galls, neatly packed and ready for overseas shipment. The other half of my brain remained blessedly numb.

  Unlatching the handles, I spread the container open wide and peered inside. It felt as if I had been struck deaf, dumb, and blind, my mind stubbornly refusing to register the contents. All I knew was that Kyle’s breath began to lick hotly at my ear.

  Come on, Porter! You know what you’re holding in your hands. The question is, what little mud child did it come from?

  Try as I might, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the unfolding nightmare. Floating inside a plastic bag of saline solution was what could only be a human heart.

  I held my breath, half-expecting it to start pumping wildly. But the heart continued to slumber, as if succored by dreams of beating in a body all its own. The bag rested on a bed of dry ice, from which ghostly wisps of mist seductively rose up to embrace me. Soon I was cocooned in the web of a gentle lullaby.

  This little piggy already went to market. Before long we’ll need another. Who do you suppose it will be? Man, woman, or child—it makes no difference, as long as they’re healthy. People are the renewable resource on the Blackfeet reservation.

  The chant transformed into Kyle’s ghostly laughter, which grew louder until it completely filled the room. The spell was broken when the door abruptly slammed shut behind me.

  There was no time to think, much less react. Ten red-hot fingers burned into my flesh, branding me with their anger as they roughly jerked me around. I tried to prepare myself to do battle with Kyle’s headless apparition, only to find I was facing something far worse: two pissed-off FBI agents. They continued to angrily glare until they saw what I held in my hands.

  “Holy shit!” Dixon exclaimed, his complexion turning as green as the office walls. “Just what the hell is going on here?”

  Santou caught my eye and I knew better than to betray him. “I decided to check out a hunch as to why people on the rez have been disappearing. Evidently Hutchins has been supplying the black market with body parts taken from Blackfeet Indians.”

  “So it wasn’t a virus that was being worked on after all,” Dixon muttered in disbelief.

  “What made you think that was why people were missing?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “High-risk experiments. We figured the Blackfeet were being used for testing purposes,” Santou offered.

  Dixon shot him a dirty look and promptly relieved me of the cooler, as Jake slapped a search warrant on top of the fridge.

  “That piece of paper is probably the only thing that’s going to save your ass, Porter,” Dixon warned. “As it is, I should have you fired for disobeying a direct order.”

  “Oh yeah? Then what’s stopping you?” I countered, unsure which angered me more—the fact that I’d screwed up and been discovered, or having to stand here while I was soundly reprimanded.

  “The simple fact is that any possibility of a case would be blown if anyone learned you broke in here without a warrant!” Dixon snapped. “So, here’s how it’s gonna play out. You leave right now and tell no one where you’ve been, or what you found. As far as the world’s concerned, you were never at this clinic.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m the one who broke this case!” I objected.

  “Maybe so, but you were never supposed to have been here in the first place. That’s what you get for not following orders.”

  “In other words the FBI gets to take all the credit for my hard work,” I growled.

  “You’ve got it.” Dixon’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. “You don’t have any bargaining chips to play with on this one.”

  “Sorry, chère, but that’s the deal. Take it or leave it,” Santou grimly confirmed.

  No doubt about it. This was payback time in more ways than one.

  “That means vamoose, Porter. Right now!” Dixon barked.

  I had little choice but to exit the room. However, I’d be damned if I’d let them scavenge every scrap of evidence that I’d found. While they were occupied in the morgue, I slid the files off the desk in Hutchins’s office and slipped them under my jacket, along with my cell phone. Maybe I was a sinking ship, but Matthew Running didn’t have to go down with me. The man had earned his fair share of credit for all the work we’d already done.

  I left the clinic through the front door and went to my car. Determined footsteps soon echoed behind me, as brisk as the chastising rap of a ruler. I quickly stashed the files under the front seat.

  “Rachel, wait! I want to talk to you a minute.”

  Santou came so close that I was nearly seared by his body heat.

  “I’m sorry about what just happened, but I tried to warn you to stay out of the way earlier.”

  I looked at the man who’d become so much a part of my life. Jake deserved honesty, no matter what the consequence. Besides, my own conscience couldn’t stand much more of this.

  “We both know what’s going on, Jake, so why don’t we just get it over with? I admit it. I slipped up big-time, and this is your way of getting even.”

  I waited for him to lash out, aware that it was well deserved. Hot tears of guilt welled up in my eyes, and I desperately wanted to ask for forgiveness. Santou stopped me by firmly pressing a finger against my lips. His touch brought my defenses crashing down. That and the look on his face, which was nearly as pained as my own.

  “All we’re talking about right now is what happened back there in that clinic. Okay?”

  I nodded, and we both took a deep breath.

  “I know you blame me for swiping cases from you in the past.”

  “Which you just did again,” I couldn’t help but jab.

  “And it’s something I promise to work on,” Santou continued. “But this one was ours from the start.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about? The FBI had no idea what was really going on,” I protested. “And the case still involves the smuggling of bear galls. Not only that, but people have been dying on this reservation for years. The FBI did nothing until Matt Running and I stirred things up.”

  The mention of Running’s name caused an awkward silence.

  “What made you decide to search the clinic, anyway?” I inquired, hoping to break the tension.

  “Hutchins apparently tried to abduct a young girl today. Her father called our office to report that your friend, Running, had caught him. The doctor’s cooling his heels in jail right now. That’s what allowed us to get a search warrant. We’ve been suspicious of Hutchins for quite a while. It’s true, we didn’t know he was dealing in the illegal organ trade. But we assumed he was involved with something big.”

  “Then why didn’t you do anything about it before now?” I asked in frustration.

  “Because I operate under a different modus operandi than you, Rachel. We actually need a solid reason before we’re granted permission to search private property.”

  The hint of a lopsided gri
n flitted across Santou’s lips and very nearly broke my heart. We’d had our ups and downs over the years, and probably always would. But there was no denying that I loved the man. And wasn’t that what relationships were all about? That belief had helped to keep my demons at bay, and to stop the darkness from entering my soul.

  “Unlike you, I do my best to make cases and still remain within the confines of the law.”

  Santou now broke into a full-fledged smile, and I couldn’t help but laugh through my tears.

  “Seriously, chère. We would have uncovered it the same as you did once we got in here.”

  I seriously doubted that. First they would have had to discover the secret room.

  “Damn, I should have figured Hutchins would be into something like this. We’re aware that the illegal organ trade is a multimillion-dollar business that’s expanded from Asia to Europe over to the U.S. Over seventy-five thousand Americans alone are on wait lists for some type of organ. There have been reports of wealthy patients willing to travel anywhere in the world to secure a transplant. Body parts are even being sold over the Internet these days!”

  That remark made me wonder what Rafe Lungren’s booming new business was really up to. “The United Christian Patriots are obviously involved in this, aren’t they?”

  Santou’s fingers raked his hair and became entangled in the mop of curls. “You’re probably right. We’re gonna have to twist Hutchins for information. Maybe he’ll be able to shed more light on the topic.”

  “That’s crazy!” I exploded. “You can’t wait for that. Who knows what could happen in the meantime? Rafe Lungren might go underground. More people could be killed. Why not just go and check out the compound right now?”

  “For chrissakes, Rachel! Because there isn’t enough evidence to obtain a search warrant yet. Lungren hasn’t been caught doing anything wrong.” Jake looked at me, clearly suspicious. “Just remember, you’re already in double hot water for riling up the militia and sneaking into the clinic. Don’t go getting any crazy ideas about invading the compound by yourself.”

  I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to blow my scheme. If all went according to plan, I’d catch Lungren breaking into Matthew’s office tonight. That should give Santou the leverage he needed to search Nearly Paradise—and redeem me in the process.

  “Listen, I’ve got to get back inside. I’ll do what I can to make sure Dixon doesn’t send a negative report to your superiors.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Santou hesitated, and I was suddenly afraid of what he might say next.

  “I love you, Rachel. I know there are things we need to work out, but I believe we’re worth fighting for. I hope you feel the same way.”

  Santou’s generosity left me speechless. I wasn’t certain I’d have been as forgiving if the situation were reversed. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I now realized just how fragile true love could be, and how close I’d come to blowing it.

  Jake’s callused fingers wiped my tears away. “We’ve both made mistakes. What say we talk about them later? Meanwhile, do me a favor, chère. Go straight to your friend Sally’s, and let us do our job.”

  Santou walked back inside as I slid into the Ford and drove off. As far as I was concerned, I’d already done their work for them.

  I’d expected to leave Kyle Lungren’s ghost behind, but wouldn’t you know? Militia boy had decided to come along for the ride.

  Be a good girl and let the FBI do their job, he mocked, his decapitated head balancing on his shoulders.

  “Oh, shut up!” I growled.

  But it was true; I felt out of the loop. Santou had only the barest sketch of a crime ring that I’d uncovered. He didn’t even know yet about Robert Zarem and his part in the trade. That’s where Matt could take credit.

  In all probability, organs were going from poor to rich, black and brown to white, female to male in a too-familiar dance of commerce. The cell phone vibrated against my hip, interrupting my thoughts. Most likely it was Matthew, wanting to know why I’d so abruptly hung up. I had every intention of telling him; we were still partners in this deal, no matter what had occurred between us. Even more to the point, we had a definite bond: we both used whatever means necessary to get our jobs done.

  “Agent Porter speaking.”

  “Listen and don’t talk,” a male voice gruffly ordered. “I’m calling with a tip. I was hunting in the Milk River complex today and came upon a freshly killed grizzly. It had a radio collar around its neck.”

  The man proceeded to tell me exactly where the bear could be found.

  “Who did you say this was?” I inquired, quickly scribbling the directions down.

  “Uh-uh! You just broke the rules by asking a question. That’s all the information you get.” He hung up.

  Damn! I hadn’t even had the chance to ask if the bear was caught in a snare. I needed to get there and see what was going on. I glanced at the clock. Five P.M. Proper procedure dictated that I notify Matthew about the call; the danger was that he’d insist on coming along. By then, night would have already begun to fall. Any further delay would give a poacher enough time to sneak in and haul the carcass off before I got to the scene.

  I couldn’t wait. Not if I wanted to be back in Browning by eight o’clock to stake out Rafe Lungren. This latest poaching brought the number of grizzlies killed to nineteen since spring. The carnage had to stop.

  I pressed the pedal to the metal and took off. I’d call Matthew once I got there.

  Nineteen

  A bank of dark, menacing clouds hovered overhead, indicating that snow was on the way. Equally foreboding was the evening sun that irately hung beneath. It blazed fervid as a bonfire, shooting off rays in angry sparks. The warning couldn’t have been any more clear—stay away. I thrust down on the pedal even harder.

  I drove along the mountain road Matt and I had traversed only yesterday and parked in the same general area. I slung a tracking device over my shoulder, turned it on, and locked the Ford. Then I slipped on the headphones, set the tracker to general scan, and holding the H-shaped antennae high in the air, began to walk.

  I’d just entered the woods when I remembered that I had yet to call Matthew. Damn! I quickly removed the headgear, plucked the cell off my belt, and punched in his number. There wasn’t so much as a sound. Wouldn’t you know? I was apparently in a dead zone. I slowly pivoted in a three-sixty-degree turn, stopping every few inches, until I finally received a dial tone. I tried the number again and this time his voice mail answered—that is, what I could hear of it through a deafening sea of static.

  “I’m at the Milk River complex checking out a tip on a dead grizzly. I’ll meet you back in Browning at eight o’clock.”

  I hung up, unsure if Matthew would be able to decipher the message, even if he managed to receive it. But at least my conscience was clear; I’d attempted to contact him. That done, I continued on.

  The forest trees began to converge, conspiring like a gang of thugs who were up to no good as they blocked out the setting sun. The wind picked up as if on cue, signaling the approach of the oncoming storm. I imagined I could hear its breeze ruffle through the pine needles in a ghostly whisper.

  You’re not as smart as you think! the gust jeered, and I knew that Kyle wasn’t far behind.

  I tried to concentrate on moving like a liquid shadow, but the scrunch of my feet resounded loudly in my ears. My limbs grew tense and a squall of prickles enveloped my flesh. I suddenly realized that I wasn’t alone. The wilderness had eyes—I could feel them everywhere. They burrowed through my jacket to pierce my skin and singe my soul. Apprehension lodged like a rising moon in my throat. What would I do if confronted by a grizzly?

  The next moment, the tracking device sprang to life.

  Beep! Beep! Beep!

  It was the steady pulse of a mortality signal. My anonymous caller had been right: the grizzly was dead.

  I continued along the trail, feeling like Hansel and Gretel. Each new b
eep took on the significance of yet another breadcrumb, as the lines on the tracking device drew closer. But still, there was no bear in sight. Despite the wind, the cold, and the fading light, I refused to leave the area without finding the grizzly.

  My focus was so strong that it took a moment before I heard the alarm bell go off in my head. An imminent sense of danger commanded that I not move a muscle. I remained perfectly still and warily looked around, and then up.

  Directly above me hung a wire cable strung between two trees. My heart began to pound so hard that I could scarcely breathe. I followed the deadly wire down to the ground and broke into a cold sweat. I’d walked straight into a snare. One false move and I’d be jerked into the air.

  I stared at where my foot was planted within the lethal loop and began to sway. I feared I was about to faint.

  Suck it up, Porter!

  The sound of Kyle’s laughter ringing in my ears snapped me out of my daze. I ever so carefully lifted my foot out of the wire and took a giant step backward. The bear would have to wait until I’d disarmed the trap. But as I turned, the lines on the tracking device converged tightly together. Straight ahead loomed a dense patch of quaking aspen. That had to be where the carcass was stashed!

  I quickly moved toward the spot, accompanied by a string of beeps as strong as a pulsating heart. There on the ground lay a discarded radio collar. Damn, damn, damn! Not only had the poacher beaten me to the punch, but he’d left the collar behind as a mocking calling card.

  I bent down to pick it up, when something hard struck the back of my neck and a rush of pain swept over me like a tsunami. Every nerve ending burst into flames and my legs gave way as I fell, cursing the headphones for having muffled the approach of my assailant.

  Oh, dear God! Don’t let it be Old Caleb!

  I forced my eyes open, but instead of four lethal paws, a man’s hands floated into view as they lifted a large rock near my head.